Dip
by CallMeSunshine
Summary: "When Brian's health dipped the autumn before his 50th birthday, Justin took the news with a hollow sense of finality." Death!Fic


This fic was created when I started using a Random Word Generator to challenge my writing, and the word Dip came up.

This is what came out of it. It's a Death!Fic, and could be a possible trigger, so if you feel in the slightest that you shouldn't read it, please don't.

None of the characters in this belong to me, they all belong to CowLip. I'm note sure who else but definately not me!

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><p><em>Dip<em>

When Brian's health dipped the autumn before his 50th birthday, Justin took the news with a hollow sense of finality. Apparently they had discovered new cancer cells in his body, and it seemed much more serious than when he had to have one of his balls removed.

Brian went in and out of hospital like he worked there. Justin was never allowed to come with him, but he was always at home when Brian suffered in the aftermaths of radiation or when the drugs he'd been prescribed messed his body up.

Brian fucking hated it, and he wasn't hesitant on telling him. All the time. Every time.

But Justin ignored him and wiped up the vomit, washed the sheets and supported Brian when he was too weak to have a piss, and poured water down his throat when he was too tired to hold the glass.

And then, Brian got better. He was still in pain, but in just a week he seemed to get his strength back and the nausea from radiation stopped.

Justin thought he was getting better, until he walked into the house one afternoon after finishing work at the gallery early, and found Brian sitting in the living room, an opened bottle of scotch in his hand and the table in front of him littered with papers.

"Come here." He said hoarsely, and Justin walked over to him, sitting down next to him:

"What are you doing?" He asked carefully, and Brian said:

"It's just some papers I need for you to sign."

He had handed a thick bunch over, and Justin barely registered the word "will" before he practically imploded on himself. It took Brian a good hour to calm him down, and they ended up curled around each other in the corner in the kitchen between the table and the counter.

Signing the papers felt like a death sentence, like Justin was jinxing it, and the rapid deterioration Brian went through afterwards did nothing to perish that feeling.

"It's just a just-in-case measure, nothing more." Brian had said, and maybe that fooled Michael and the rest of them, who wanted to believe it so badly they would've believed Brian if he said the doctors had been wrong and that it was just a bad case of the flu. But he didn't fool Justin. Justin knew Brian too well for that.

But he let Brian do whatever he needed to do, and stood by him silently.

One night he was working on his latest painting when Brian knocked on the door to the studio. Justin looked up, and smiled. Brian was dressed in one of his best suits, having gone to Kinnetik that morning for the first time in a month. He looked beautiful, as always. Trust Brian to still look thirty-five when he was closing in on fifty.

He noticed a bottle in Brian's hand and asked:

"What's that?"

"I bought some wine. You want some?"

"Sure." He nodded, and Brian disappeared before returning with two wine glasses. He poured the amber liquid into the crystal, and they toasted. Justin drank and revelled in the warmth it brought:

"Tastes expensive."

"It is. But I thought we should celebrate." Brian said, and when he raised his eyebrows, Brian said:

"I made Cynthia head of Kinnetik."

Justin almost dropped his glass:

"What?"

"It's time. I've made my millions a long time ago, and she knows the company just as well as I. It was only fair. And I got a pretty round sum for it, so I'm set. You're set."

Justin blinked, and swallowed to loosen up the knot in his throat:

"Brian..."

Brian shook his head:

"No. Don't cry. I made Cynthia promise that you'll have a place in the company if you ever wanted it. She looks forward to having you on the team."

Justin shook his head and started to speak, but Brian interrupted him and looked at the painting:

"How's it coming along?" Then, he looked at him:

"Can I try some?"

Justin handed him the brush, and stepped back. He watched as Brian slowly finished the painting, putting his own colours and spins into it, sipping his wine every now and then as he did. When he was finished, they signed their names into the wet paint before leaving it to dry.

They spent the rest of the night drinking the expensive wine and just being. Brian goofed around a little, and danced Justin around the living room to his best CD until they were both laughing and then crying. Justin built a fire when Brian got cold, and they curled up on the couch under a blanket, kissing and smoking cigarettes and laying in silence until one of them felt they needed to say something.

"You're dying, aren't you?" Justin said, even though he knew Brian was.

"Yes." Brian simply said, and Justin nodded, leaning down to kiss him. Brian then got up and pulled him to his feet, leading him to the bedroom. Justin let Brian undress him and they fell together on the bed. The sex lasted for hours, and when it was over, Brian got off of him and got dressed in his suit again. Justin watched him, and then got up himself, putting on a pair of underwear, pyjama pants and a t-shirt he had borrowed from Brian before getting back into bed. Brian got in with him and they lay down on top of the made bed, pulling a blanket over themselves to keep warm, mostly for Justin's sake.

They kissed until Brian got too tired; the sex had really wrenched the last little bit of energy out of him, and Justin spooned up behind him, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his neck and just listening to when Brian talked, saying everything he needed to say, and made Justin promise him a lot of things. Things about the house, things about himself, Gus, Michael, Debbie... hell, he even got to promise Brian about how they had decided the kitchen was supposed to be redecorated.

"I love you." Brian finally said, and Justin had to take a few deep breaths to steady his voice before he answered back:

"I love you too. I'll always love you."

"You better." Brian chuckled, and then they stayed silent until they fell asleep, Brian long before Justin.

As soon as Justin resurfaced from sleep, he knew Brian was gone. Justin was still laying curled around him, but it felt off. Brian was so still, and it took a long time before Justin dared to open his eyes. He knew that when he did, he wouldn't be able to stay in the bed any longer.

Finally, he did, and thankfully Brian didn't look weird. He looked just like Justin had imagined he would, and like he'd always been told that dead people looked like; like he was just sleeping.

Justin held his breath, moving his arm from around Brian's waist and gently squeezing his hand. He was still soft, but his skin was cool against Justin's own. He hadn't been dead for long.

The realization of what he was thinking startled him, and he quickly sat up, reaching over and shaking Brian's shoulder:

"Brian? Brian?"

Just in case, more for the sake of his own sanity than the miracle of Brian starting to breathe after stopping probably a few hours earlier.

How long had he...? And Justin hadn't noticed. He had imagined he would feel it, like something snapping inside of him or a stabbing pain in his heart or some kind of Spider-Man-Sense tingle, but he hadn't noticed anything.

He sat for a few moments watching Brian, a good two foot space between himself and he other man before he found his bearings and walked around the bed.

He let himself cry a few tears as he arranged Brian, rolling him onto his back and straightening his legs and crossing his hands over his chest. he could lose his mind later and break down, but not right niw. it was not the time for that. There were a few things he needed to take care of first, or he would never get to it.

He finished by straightening Brian's suit and hair, and stood back to look at him for a few seconds, making sure he looked presentable. Brian would've come back just to set fire to the house if Justin left him looking a mess whent he paramedics came to pick him up.

Then, he kissed him on the lips and left the room to call the hospital.

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><p>Okay, so, this came about in a few hours and it's maybe not my best work ever, but I wanted to post it to see what you readers think.<p>

So please take the time to Read & Review!

/CMS


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